


hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

by thethreebroomstix



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Past Child Abuse, Politics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, banishment anniversary, sokka finds out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:47:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25838299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethreebroomstix/pseuds/thethreebroomstix
Summary: It's the four year anniversary of Zuko's banishment and he's hoping this year will be different. After all, the war's over, Ozai's in prison, his life was full of people who loved him, and he was Firelord. But healing from past traumas is easier said than done and Zuko finds himself spiraling in the days leading up to the anniversary. Complicating things further, Zuko hasn't told Sokka how he got his scar, a conversation he doesn't know how to begin having when he's barely holding it together.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 452





	hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Description of Anxiety and Panic Attacks, Canon Compliant references to Child Abuse, mention of vomit. 
> 
> Hello I couldn't get the thought of how Zuko would handle the first anniversary of his banishment after the war out of my head and this happened. I don't write dialogue very often so this was basically a fun experiment to see how many variations of the word say I could come up with. Also pretty sure I switch between past and present tense at will throughout this. So have fun with that kids!
> 
> I hope you enjoy xxx

In the years past, the anniversary of Zuko’s banishment had been immensely difficult for the young prince. The first year, he refused to leave his quarters on the ship for nearly a week, alternating between a fierce desperation to find the Avatar and crushing despair in the brief moments he allowed himself to admit it was a lost cause, nothing but a wild goose chase for a disappointing son. All he’d wanted then was for his father to give him some sign, any sign, that he still cared. It took days for him to pull himself together after the anniversary, but he eventually returned to the deck of the ship with a renewed passion for his mission and some harsh words in response to his Uncle’s concerned glances.

The second year, he forbad himself from thinking about his father, his mother, his sister, Caldera City, war council meetings, Agni Kai’s, and really anything even tangentially related to his banishment. His full and total focus was on finding the Avatar which in Zuko’s opinion, was a great strategy. That was until, after yet another disappointing day of not finding a trace of the Airbender, he nearly burned down the ship during a frustrated outburst.  
The third year he’d let himself feel the sadness, bitter shame, and disappointment, hoping it would stir the motivation he so desperately needed to continue chasing some twelve-year-old boy around the world. But instead of being allowed to wallow all day, Azula had shown up out of the blue, raising his hopes that his father did still want him only to shatter them in an instant.

Zuko had hoped this year would be different. The war was over, his father was in prison, he was the Firelord, had people in his life who loved him, and most importantly, had accepted he didn’t need his father to return his honor. He’d done that himself. And yet, in the days leading up to the anniversary, Zuko had felt the same familiar anxiety, the same creeping dread, and the same overwhelming sensation that he was nothing more than a freshly burned and banished thirteen-year-old child. He was doing his best to keep going, burying himself in his work, shaking off Sokka’s concern about his obviously tense behavior, and responding to his Uncle’s letter asking if Zuko wanted him there for the anniversary with “actually I’m doing really well this year”.

Zuko knew he was going to have to explain himself to Sokka at some point. For one they’d been together for several months now and concealing his most traumatic and foundational experience from his boyfriend was probably not the best idea. There were also the nightmares. As the date got closer, Sokka had woken up a number of times to Zuko shaking, drenched in cold sweat, and biting back a scream. Sokka never once pressed for an explanation only asking Zuko if he wants to talk about it and pulling the other boy into his arms when he says no. It was clear however, that Sokka’s concern was growing. Zuko kept catching him glancing at him when he thinks Zuko isn’t looking, trying to get him to eat more and sleep more, and cracking more jokes than usual in an attempt to get Zuko to laugh. Zuko doesn’t quite know why he’s delaying the inevitable when it comes to explaining the origin of his scar to Sokka, it wasn’t like he would react poorly. But it’s just been so long without telling him already and it’s not really the type of thing Zuko can just drop into casual conversation. And right now, with the anniversary approaching and his responsibilities pilling up, Zuko doesn’t think he has the energy for that particular conversation in him.

Zuko barely sleeps at all the night before the anniversary. He’s been plagued by nightmares all week and now, when he closes his eyes, all he sees is Ozai’s hand raised to burn him. Zuko spends most of the night tossing and turning, startling awake as soon as he drifts to sleep, the sound of Azula’s hysterical laughter at the last Agni Kai ringing in his ears. He must fall asleep at some point however, because the next moment he’s opening his eyes to the first rays of sun. Sokka’s still asleep next to him and despite the overwhelming exhaustion and the anxiety already building in his stomach, the peaceful look on Sokka’s face manages to put a small smile on his face. He allows himself a moment to card his fingers through Sokka’s hair, which is free from its usual wolf tail and is instead splayed out across his pillow and face, before climbing out of bed.

Zuko’s slightly nauseous and dizzy, the specific kind that accompanies sleepless nights and he mentally prepares himself for a long and difficult day as he begins dressing in his Firelord attire. When he’s dressed, he sits down in front of the vanity to deal with his hair. It’s grown longer since the war, not nearly as long as Ozai’s, but it’s beginning to reach his shoulders. Zuko pulls part of it into a top knot, securing it with a band and his headpiece. He doesn’t move from the vanity when he’s done. Instead, he studies his reflection in the mirror intensely. Zuko flinches slightly at the sight. _I look more like him every day_. Zuko thinks bitterly. In Zuko’s opinion the only thing that really differentiates him from his father is the large scar taking up half his face. He runs the pads of his fingers gingerly across the scar, starting at the edge where it meets his unmarked skin before tracing closer to his eye. Zuko feels his heart rate picking up, his anxiety beginning to spike. With an exhausted sigh he pulls his hand from his face and drops his head into his hands, steadying himself with a deep breath. Iroh had taught him a number of breathing exercises over the course of his travels and Zuko practices one now, feeling some of the anxiety dissipate slightly. Relieved, Zuko stands and mentally runs through his schedule for the day, grabbing the few things he needs off his desk before exiting his room.

His first meeting’s in an hour and as unappealing as food sounds at the moment he knows he should eat something before he goes. To kill time and hoping to walk off some of his anxiety, Zuko decides to head down to the kitchen instead of taking breakfast in his room. Located in the same wing of the palace as Zuko and Sokka’s quarters, it’s a short walk to the kitchen and soon enough Zuko is greeted by the friendly smiles and waves of the kitchen staff. It had taken some time for the palace staff to grow comfortable around Zuko. His father had, characteristically, not been a benevolent employer and Zuko can only imagine the hostility the staff members faced when around the former Firelord. Zuko had made sure to personally introduce himself to as many of the palace workers as he could and as the months went on, the atmosphere of fear in the palace disappeared more and more. Zuko finds who he’s looking for, a young assistant chef named Jin, chopping fruit at one of the counters.

“Firelord Zuko!” Jin greets him, a large smile on her face. “It’s good to see you, it’s been too long!”

“Truly.” Zuko responds, offering a soft smile in return. “I was wondering if I would be able to get a fruit tart for myself and then have a breakfast spread sent up to my quarters for Sokka?”

“Of course.” Jin says, turning to pass the instructions on to one of the other kitchen workers. Zuko and Jin make friendly small talk while he waits for his breakfast. At a lull in the conversation however, Jin grows somewhat serious, a kind look of concern on her face. “Forgive me for asking sir but how are you doing today? I know it must be a hard day for you.” It shouldn’t have surprised Zuko that members of the palace staff had taken note of the anniversary, but he feels his stomach drop regardless. Stammering slightly, Zuko clears his throat and works his face into a neutral expression.

“I’m fine, just focusing on my work today, no sense dwelling on the past.” Zuko manages to get out, all too aware his response sounded rushed and not at all convincing. Fortunately, he isn’t forced to dwell on the subject or the unconvinced and still concerned expression on Jin’s face as his fruit tart was ready and being handed to him by one of the other chefs. Zuko thanks them both and hastily leaves the kitchen, heading outside to the gardens.

Zuko makes his way over to the turtle duck pond and sits down heavily on the nearest bench. His anxiety is back full force and before he can get too caught up in the pounding of his heart and his spiraling thoughts, he works his way through another breathing exercise. _There’s no point dwelling on the past_ he tries to remind himself, desperately trying to avoid picturing his father, hand raised and ready to burn him. Instead, Zuko thinks about Iroh, his tea jokes and belly laughs, his gentle touch, and insightful life lessons. He thinks about Sokka, his steadfast dedication to his nation and his friends, his bright smile when he comes up with a new idea or sees Zuko after a long day, his loud laugh over a shared meal. He thinks about his mother, the afternoons he spent with her in this same place, the way she would hold him tight after another rejection from Ozai, the comfort he had always found in her presence.

Feeling steadier, Zuko opens his eyes and sees several turtle ducks gathered at the edge of the pond. They’re squawking at him, or more accurately, his fruit tart. Zuko laughs slightly and breaks off a piece of the pastry to toss to the noisy animals before beginning to eat it himself. He eats slowly, trying to avoid upsetting his stomach further, and by time he’s done it’s almost time for his first meeting.

Zuko stands and heads back to the palace, running over notes for the meeting in his head as he walks. It’s a fairly typical meeting with his advisors aside from the fact they’re beginning discussions on a new issue area today—the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom. Zuko is set on providing reparations to the colonies and proposing self-determination and he’s expecting resistance on both fronts from many who will be present at the meeting. He’d weeded out all of Ozai’s former advisors upon his coronation and focused on selecting individuals with open minds to fill the positions. He’d worked to find people who were both experienced and had at least been wary of his father’s politics but with how ingrained the war and its propaganda had been in the Fire Nation for generations; it was difficult to find many in government who occupied this niche. Still, Zuko was confident enough in the character of his current advisors that he was nearly certain his ideas wouldn’t be outright rejected.

Arriving at the conference room, Zuko mentally prepares himself for several hours of bickering, stonewalling, and nuanced policy decisions before taking his seat. His advisors file in shortly after him and get settled at their respective places around the table. The meeting begins without any fanfare and one of the advisors launches into an overview of the history of the Fire Nation’s colonies as well as the current politics in the region. When he’s done, Zuko proposes his reparations package which is met with blessedly little resistance and even some further development and aid proposals from several of the advisors.

The meeting progressed smoothly, even when Zuko raised the idea of self-determination. Most of his advisors seemed to be giving the proposal genuine consideration and the most opposition Zuko faced was one member of the meeting suggesting it was a longer conversation for a later date. That was until Zuko heard a scoff from the end of the table. It was his most conservative advisor, Zo, a general who Zuko had reluctantly agreed to add to his staff who, while less malicious than many of the war’s military leaders, had overseen many of the Fire Nation army’s campaigns in the Earth Kingdom.

“Care to share anything General Zo?” Zuko asked, immediately regretting not letting the scoff go.

“Yes actually.” Zo responded clearing his throat and shuffling the papers in front of him. “The Earth Kingdom colonies are integral to our economy, culture, and regional trade. Handing over total control of the area to the Earth Kingdom would deal a great blow to the national economy and greatly upset many of the noblemen who reside there.” Zuko resisted the urge to roll his eyes and drummed his fingers on the table in false consideration. Many of the others around the table however, offered murmurs of agreement.

“You see General,” Zuko started. “Our priority on this matter cannot simply be _our_ economy or some noblemen who occupied sovereign land for decades. We have to be considering the needs and desires of the Earth Kingdom citizens whose land we’ve held for far too long. But don’t worry, even if we dissolve the colonies, I’m sure you’ll still be able to summer in the Western Earth Kingdom.” Zuko knew, albeit distantly, that the last comment was likely unnecessary. But he’d been on edge for days and Zo had a distasteful habit of writing of the needs of everyone but the rich and powerful and Zuko had quite frankly had enough of it. Zo bristled at the remark.

“Your lack of regard for the good of this nation is troubling Firelord Zuko. I’m willing to entertain this silly reparations plan of yours but diminishing our presence around the world is a step too far. Firelord Ozai understood the need for a strong show of power against our biggest global competitor and would never have considered such a foolish idea.” Zuko felt a chill run through him at the mention of his father. He had made it very clear that he would be moving as far away as possible from his father’s murderous agenda and that his name should never be used in an admirable context in his presence.

“Do _not_ bring my father into this.” Zuko growled. He could feel his hands warming with the flare of anger and anxiety but was unable to calm his rapidly spiraling emotions. “He is a murderous tyrant responsible for unspeakable devastation in the region and if he would have been opposed to this idea then it sounds pretty damn good to me.” The other advisors had grown uncomfortably quiet and suddenly interested in their notes, clearly trying to avoid the escalating argument between Zuko and Zo.

“I understand your father is a touchy subject for you Firelord Zuko but outright rejecting anything he would have supported is childish even for you.” Zo sneered. Zuko heard a gasp from one of the other advisors over the rushing of blood in his ears.

“That’s _enough_.” Zuko shouted, distantly aware that he was beginning to burn his robes where he had twisted his hands in them. “You are no longer welcome in this cabinet General Zo.” Zo set his jaw defiantly and stood, gathering his things and exiting the room without another word but slamming the door behind him. Zuko shut his eyes tightly and tried to think over the panic rapidly consuming him. He could hear Ozai’s voice and see his hand raised to burn him and—

One of his advisors loudly cleared their throat. “Firelord Zuko would you like to continue from where we left off?” He asked, tone low and calm.

“No.” Zuko spit out. “I think that’s enough for today.” He stood hastily, nearly knocking over his chair behind him. “Thank you for your time and expertise folks. We’ll continue this conversation at a later date.” Zuko rushed out of the room as soon as the words were out. He walked quickly down the hall, not entirely sure where he was going but needing to escape from the suffocating meeting. He rounded a corner and stopped short as he spotted Zo further down the hall talking animatedly and clearly ranting to a nobleman. Zuko swore under his breath and pulled open the nearest door, pulling it shut behind him before leaning against it heavily and closing his eyes. He ran the heels of his palms over his face as he opened his eyes and saw for the first time since entering what room he was in.

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me.” Zuko spat out as he realized where he was. _I must have come in from the side door_ , he thought to himself as he faced the ornate war council room with its high ceilings and endless table headed by a large and foreboding throne. It was the very same war council room he’d spoken out of turn in four years and one day ago, disrespecting his father and earning him a large scar, banishment, and an impossible quest. Zuko felt his vision swimming and panic beginning to overtake him. He let out a sob and had to lean heavily against the door to avoid collapsing. He felt dizzy, his stomach churning, and heart pounding as he turned and ran out of the room, unable to be there a second longer.

Zuko gave the hallway a cursory glance to confirm it was empty before sprinting in the direction of his room. He knew he needed to get somewhere private before he had a full blown and inevitable panic attack, the events from the past ten minutes having thoroughly shattered his fragile calm. He ignored the confused looks on the faces of the palace staff he ran by, making it to his quarters in record time, adrenaline pushing him forward.

Sokka’s greeting died on his lips as he took in Zuko’s state. Zuko didn’t stop to explain himself because as much as he wanted to bury his face in Sokka’s chest and cry, he was suddenly overwhelmed by nausea. He ran to the bathroom and collapsed in front of the toilet, vomiting up the contents of his stomach. Zuko heard Sokka swear and the Water Tribe boy was beside him in an instant, moving Zuko’s hair away from his face and rubbing circles on his back.

“Okay, you’re okay. I’m right here.” Sokka said, his voice steady despite his evident concern. Zuko, no longer gagging, unsuccessfully choked back a sob and moved away from the toilet, collapsing heavily against the wall. “Zuko, hey, talk to me.” Sokka said, worry lacing his words. Zuko tried to open his mouth but was overcome by a wave of anxiety and all he could do was break down into tears and shallow breaths.

“I. I can’t breathe.” Zuko stuttered. It felt like he couldn’t take in any air, like his lungs were constricting and his heart was going to beat straight out of his chest. Zuko curled into himself, grabbing a fistful of his hair tightly. “Fuck, Sokka I can’t breathe.” Sokka pulled Zuko to him so his back was against Sokka’s chest and moved the other boy’s hands away from his head, gripping them tightly in his own.

“Zuko. Hey. I’m right here. You’re okay. Breathe.” Zuko tried to focus on Sokka’s rambling reassurances but he didn’t feel any less panicked. “Zuko breathe with me. Deep breath in, deep breath out.” Zuko followed along, leaning back against Sokka’s chest and slowly regaining control of his breathing. It didn’t work straight away but the more Zuko focused on Sokka’s voice and his guided breathing the more he felt the panic dissipate. Slowly, Zukko’s sobs subsided into hiccups and he regained control of his breathing, though each breath still felt ragged and forced. “Hey.” Sokka said, carding one hand through Zuko’s hair and continuing to rub his back with the other. “You back with me?” He asked softly. Zuko nodded pressing his face into the crook of Sokka’s neck. They stayed like that for several more minutes before Sokka gently maneuvered himself out from behind Zuko, standing and filling a glass of water at the sink. Zuko took the water gratefully, rinsing his mouth and spitting into the toilet before taking a careful sip. Sokka sat down next to him again and wrapped his arm around Zuko pulling him back to his side.

“Do you want to talk to me about what’s going on?” Sokka asked gently, running his free hand through Zuko’s hair. Zuko buried his head in the crook of Sokka’s neck and took a deep breath before speaking.

“I do but not right now. I’ve got to get to a meeting soon and it might be a long conversation.” Zuko replied, nervously playing with his hands in his lap.

“Yeah you’re absolutely not going to that meeting babe.” Sokka said. Zuko’s head shot up, indignant.

“Sokka I _have_ to. I can’t derail my entire day just because I’m upset.”

“Okay well to start, that’s the understatement of the century Zuko.” Sokka began. “You’ve been on edge for days, you’ve barely been sleeping, and something in your last meeting rattled you enough that you had a panic attack. You need to take care of yourself and going back to work minutes after a breakdown is definitively not taking care of yourself.”

“I’ll be _fine_.” Zuko protested, aware he was beginning to sound like a petulant child.

“Zuko.” Sokka said firmly. “You can push these meetings to a later date, I’ll help you rearrange your schedule and I can fill in for you at some if needed.” When Zuko didn’t respond, only offering an indignant huff, Sokka continued. “This is not up for negotiation Zuko. Don’t think I won’t talk to your secretary and cancel those meetings myself.”

“Okay.” Zuko said. He was too drained to keep arguing with Sokka and the idea of standing up and sitting through another meeting was admittedly unrealistic. He rested his head on Sokka’s shoulder again and the pair stayed like that for several minutes, Sokka methodically rubbing Zuko’s back until he stood, offering Zuko his hand to help him up.

“Why don’t you go lie down for a bit? I’ll have some tea brought up for you and let your scheduler know your appointments need to be moved to another day.” Zuko nodded and let himself be guided to the bedroom by Sokka. Sokka helped Zuko change out of his formal attire and into more comfortable clothing before Zuko laid down in bed, Sokka pulling the covers up and turning to exit the room.

“Will you come back and stay with me when you’re done?” Zuko heard himself asking before he could stop himself. Sokka smiled softly and moved closer to Zuko, leaning down to plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Of course, love.” Sokka replied kindly. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” As soon as Sokka left the room Zuko immediately found himself succumbing to exhaustion, his eyelids growing heavy and his body, for once, relaxed. Five minutes passed and Zuko, half asleep, felt the bed dip on the other side and Sokka sliding into bed next to him. He curled into Sokka’s side, head resting on his chest, and let himself drift off to sleep.

Zuko woke later that afternoon to find Sokka awake next to him, sitting up and reading a scroll, absentmindedly running his free hand through Zuko’s hair.

“Hey there sleepy head.” He said when he felt Zuko stir next to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” Zuko replied, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“A little after three. Don’t worry your meetings have all been pushed until later in the week, it shouldn’t be too overwhelming your week is pretty open.” Zuko nodded, grateful Sokka and his scheduler had already figured out the details of rearranging his schedule to account for a mid-morning breakdown.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Zuko mumbled, looking down at his lap. Sokka put the scroll he was holding down on the edge of the bed, shifting to move closer to Zuko.

“Hey none of that. I’m just glad you’re feeling a little better.” Zuko nodded but didn’t say anything else, simply allowing himself to revel in the comfort of relaxing with Sokka despite the anxious unease still present in his stomach. “You said earlier you wanted to talk about some stuff?” Sokka asked carefully. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, and we can always talk later if you’re not up for it. I’m-I’m here if you want to talk though.” He rushed out, his blue eyes studying Zuko lovingly. Zuko pushed himself farther up in bed and sighed.

“I want to and I think I’m ready to talk, I’ve been putting this off for a while and I should have told you all of this sooner so I understand if you’re upset I didn’t—” Zuko rambled before Sokka cut him off.

“Zuko, you don’t owe me an explanation and you especially don’t owe me an apology. I just care that you feel comfortable enough to tell me. Whatever it is.” Sokka says earnestly. After that Zuko finds it easier to talk.

“Okay um. Have I ever told you how I got my scar?” Zuko asks, knowing full well he hasn’t and that Sokka knows he hasn’t. Sokka doesn’t call him on it, only shaking his head no in response. Zuko takes a deep breath and continues. “Well I was thirteen. I was getting older and I wanted my father to take me seriously. I wasn’t too much younger than my cousin Lu Ten was when he joined the army and I knew it was only a matter of time before I had to enlist but I knew my father thought I wasn’t good enough to fight. That I was a disappointment.” Zuko pauses and Sokka gives him an encouraging nod.

“You have to understand.” Zuko continues. “The war was everything. It was propagandized to us from the day we were born. Winning the war was the only thing my father ever cared about, that and becoming Firelord, and for me, well making my father proud was the only thing that mattered to me.” Zuko plays with a loose thread in the blanket draped over his lap while Sokka strokes his hand up and down his arm. “There was this big war meeting. Every important general and strategist was going to be there, and I wanted to go and impress my father more than anything. I begged to go and my Uncle finally agreed to let me attend.” Zuko pauses again, taking another deep breath to steady himself before continuing.

“The thing was, I was supposed to stay quiet. But this general presented some strategy. They were going to sacrifice new recruits; it was going to be a massacre. I didn’t even think before yelling at him and telling him what a terrible idea I thought it was.” Sokka makes a fond noise in the back of his throat but didn’t speak, not wanting to interrupt Zuko. “I was challenged to an Agni Kai. I thought I was going to be fighting the general and I was ready, or thought I was at least. But when I got there it wasn’t him. It was my father because it was him I’d disrespected by speaking out during the meeting.” Zuko feels Sokka tense next to him, clearly anticipating the direction Zukko’s story was headed.

“I told him I didn’t want to fight. I begged him to forgive me and show me mercy.” Zuko choked out, he was tearing up and his words were beginning to feel thick in his throat. “He didn’t listen. The next thing I knew I was on my knees in front of him and he was burning my face, saying suffering would be my teacher.” Zuko hears Sokka bite back a cry of his own and the Water Tribe boy pulls him impossibly closer. “When I woke up, I was on a ship. Half my face was bandaged, I was banished, and told not to return home unless I’d capture the Avatar.” Zuko says with a humorless laugh. “At that point the Avatar had been missing for a hundred years. My grandfather spent his whole life searching for him. It was an impossible task I was never supposed to be able to do it but I fixated on it and convinced myself I could do it because it was the only way I could go home, the only way I could get my father to love me—” Zuko stopped speaking, tears beginning to fall from his eyes. Sokka knew the rest anyway. Sokka tilts Zuko’s chin up to look at him and Zuko sees he’s crying too.

“Zuko, love, listen to me. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve any of that.” His tone was gentle but shaky and Zuko could hear the undercurrent of anger that ran through it. Sokka furiously pushed his tears away with the heel of his palm. “Spirits, I hate your fucking dad so much. Tui and La, I wish Aang wasn’t such a pacifist, he let him off way too easy—” Sokka cuts himself off.

“I’m sorry me ranting about your dad isn’t helping.” Zuko chuckled.

“It actually kind of is. He’s really fucking awful.” Sokka barks out a short laugh.

“Damn right.” Sokka responds. “But um, what about today.” He says, playing with the hair framing Zuko’s face.

“Yeah well, it’s the anniversary of my banishment today.” Zuko stammers, feeling Sokka freeze slightly. “It’s always really hard but I thought this year might be different. Everything in my life is so much better than it was a year ago, I thought I might be okay.” He laughs humorlessly again. “All it took was one of my advisors making some comment about Ozai to send me over the edge.” Sokka presses a kiss to Zuko’s head.

“Hey of course this still affects you. You went through something extremely traumatic and you’ve barely had time to process it. What did the advisor say?” Sokka asks.

“It was Zo.” Zuko replies. “He said the idea of allowing the colonies to determine their future was childish and that my father ‘ _never would’ve diminished our strength in the world_ ’ or something. I don’t know, but him mentioning my father really set me off.”

“Spirits, please tell me you fired him on the spot.” Sokka says scoffing. “For one, you’re right and he’s tragically wrong, and two, how dare he even mention that man to you—”

“I did.” Zuko says. “Fire him I mean. So, replacing him is something I’ll have to figure out.”

“A project for another day.” Sokka responds. “But Zuko I need you to know. You are so much more than your father. He doesn’t define you and him _hurting_ you like that is indefensible.”

“I know.” Zuko says quietly. He’d realized that some time ago now but sometimes it’s easy to lose track of.

“You are so good, and kind, and beautiful, and you are a better person and Firelord already than he ever has been or will be. And you’re so much better than anyone who says otherwise.”

“Thank you.” Zuko replies, resting his head on Sokka’s shoulder.

“Thank you for telling me. I know it can’t be easy to talk about.” Sokka says.

“Yeah, but I think I’m glad I did. I’m glad you know. It’s part of me, as hard as that is.” Sokka hums and presses another kiss to Zuko’s temple.

“Of course. But it’s not all of you. That doesn’t make it better but Zuko you are so much more than the bad things that happened to you. You’re so much more than your father.” Zuko moves to embrace Sokka, holding him tight and inhaling his comfortable scent. They stay like that for some time while Zuko recovers. Until Zuko decides he wants dinner and Sokka calls for what could only be described as a feast of all of Zuko’s favorite foods to be brought up to the room. Sokka shoots him bright smiles over their meal and Zuko allows himself to enjoy the love and acceptance Sokka’s given him. Things aren’t perfect, he isn’t great, but he’s still here and he’s happy and Zuko decides that has to count for something.


End file.
